CHAPTER NINETEENRed Raincoat
“You can help me set the stage for this drama,” said Gamadge, settling back and crossing his knees. “You knew Alice Dunbar and I didn’t. I gather that she was a quiet type, repressed and lonely?”
“More than that,” said Dunbar. He was sitting back too, his elbow on the table, his other hand, with a cigarette in it, resting on the table’s edge. His thinnish face was still sceptical, but it showed more interest. “She was a disappointed woman; thwarted, you know. Ever since her engagement was broken—I didn’t know her then, but Gail told me—she hadn’t shown any spirit at all. I hate the jargon, but don’t they call it frustrated?”
Gamadge said: “I’d go farther. I’d say that that dressing up and running away shows something like madness in a type like hers; I’d say
